Wise girl
by TheGirlWhoRuns
Summary: Annabeth can't stop thinking about last summer, especially about Percy. Can Annabeth learn something about love from her favorite teacher? One-shot. Set during the school year after the BOTL. REVISED


**Rights to Rick **  
**Enjoy! :)**

My hand was a blur across the paper as I finished the essay on _Romeo and Juliet_ that our teacher lived to give us. Literally. Mrs. Portman was old and frail, her many wrinkles standing out even more as a result of the extensive amount of makeup that she used to hide them. I shook my tired hand and let it rest on the desk, surveying the rest of the class. All I could see were the tops of heads. Brown hair, auburn, brown, brown, red, auburn, blonde, brown, blonde, red. I realized that I had been looking for the shaggy raven black hair of one person in particular, and shook my head miserably. Ever since Percy and I had gone different ways after our labyrinth adventure, I couldn't get the idea that he was with Rachel at this very moment, out of my mind. Last summer had been so, _complicated_. There is the Percy and Rachel thing, as I am now calling it (imagining them together made me feel like my heart was being pulled in two different directions and wanted to run out of my chest, a feeling I just don't understand.) Then there's the fact that I _kissed_ Percy, even though it's obvious that he likes Rachel _and_ fell in love with Calypso. So there is no possible way that he likes me, and I'm starting to doubt that he's even my best friend anymore; another person gone just like Luke. My head sank even lower._ Luke. _That name opened a door that let a flood of emotions through, drowning me in memories. And nothing got solved that day on the hill, the last time I saw Percy, nothing, so there's still so many questions… I bit my lip.

Wiping my eyes furiously, I took a deep breath and squeezed my face. I couldn't think about this anymore, I had deadlines and projects and more importantly, the prophecy to worry about. No time for sadness. I didn't like to admit it, but I had already cried a river, so now it was time to build a bridge (an architecturally sound one of course) and get over it. I was once again calm and collected, and almost everyone had finished. The first of the two bells rang which told us to collect our things. The students, including me, got up quickly and rushed towards the door, waiting anxiously.

"Oh, I have just about finished grading your beginning of the year reports, so you will be receiving those tomorrow," said Mrs. Portman, her shrill scratchy voice piercing the air.

I coughed, barely able to breathe because of the amount of cologne that Jake, who was walking towards me, was wearing.

"So Annabeth, do you think you did good on the essay today?" he asked mockingly.

I smiled, noticing that he called me Annabeth. He used to call me Annie on a daily basis, calling my name, excuse me, my incorrect nickname, for no reason at all. He had learned his lesson.

"I think I did _well,_ Jake," I responded emphasizing his grammar mistake. He waved me off, scoffing.

"You're such a smart ass, Annabeth," he said.

"You think you're so smart, but you're really only a girl." I raised my eyebrows. He was getting bold.

"You know, maybe that's what I'll call you, Smart Girl," he said.

He cut me off before I could reply.

"No, no, no," he continued. "I think, hmm, Wise girl sounds better," he finished, looking pleased with himself.

I spun away from him quickly, trying to hide the look of shock on my face_. He did not just, _I thought to myself.

"Hey _Annie_," he said. "Did I finally get you?" He asked.

_Yes you did, but not in the way you think_, I thought in silent reply. I was saved by the bell, that startling angry cow noise that was broadcasted over the speakers. I kept my head down, hiding the criminal tears that escaped my eyes. I was _his_ wise girl, I was wise, I was in control and then, I had to bite my lip to keep from sobbing.

"Annabeth Chase, may I speak to you?" said the crisp but smooth voice of my favorite teacher, Ms. Andrews.

The class responded with a chorus of _ooohs, _and I nodded slightly, a bit surprised, and completely curious.

She didn't look at me, just led me into her classroom before taking a seat behind her desk. She motioned me to sit in the chair in front of her and drummed her fingers on the desk. I didn't look at her face. The last thing I needed was for my favorite teacher to know I was a big emotional mess.

"Can I have the name please?" she asked finally. I looked up. "Um, excuse me?" I said, confused. She dropped her hand on the table and laid the other on top of it. "The name of the young gentleman who is causing you, one of the most in control girls that I know, to feel such emotional pain" she explained.

I had always admired the professional way in which she spoke, and how she always tried to solve the problem instead of offering meaningless apologies or condolences, but right now it was scaring me. "How did you know?" I asked, completely bewildered. She sighed and sank into her seat. "It wasn't so long ago when I was young and in love," she said. "No, but Miss, I'm not in love, there's just a lot going on," I lied. "Annabeth, being in love does not make you weak. In many ways, it makes you stronger," she replied.

I took a deep breath. "It's just that my best friend has been hanging out with this other girl a lot lately, and," I contemplated what to say next. Ms. Andrews leaned over her desk. "And you are jealous," I looked down, ashamed.

"Are you sure that they are, together, as you say nowadays?" she asked looking at some papers on her desk. I shook my head no. "So if you don't know for sure, then what gives you reason to worry?"

And I told her. I told her about the kiss, about how oblivious he was, about how I called him a coward. By the end of my monologue, I was out of breath. She tilted her head to the side.

"Alright, so your claims are not unsupported, but I would talk to this boy. I have a feeling that he is just as conflicted as you are," she said with a small smile.

Her hazel eyes met with my grey ones. "Really?" I asked in a small voice. Her smile grew.

"If you weren't so influenced by your feelings it would be obvious to you that this boy is head over heels for you." She stood up and waved her hand towards the door.

"Go to class now. Tell the teacher we had to talk about some new extra credit assignments you were interested in," she said.

I stood up quickly and thanked her over and over before heading towards the door; my chest feeling like it was expanding to accommodate my ecstatic heart. As I walked into the hallway, I heard Ms. Andrews voice behind me.

"Oh, and Annabeth" I turned. "Don't forget that love is an unexplainable and often illogical emotion. That means that you have to be wise enough to let it thrive instead of trying to contain it," she said.

I smiled thoughtfully and nodded.

"Ms. Andrews?" I said.

She turned.

"His name is Percy, by the way," I finished before turning around a scurrying down the hallway.

I could feel her smiling behind me. Ms. Andrews is now my all time favorite teacher.


End file.
